


The Warriors Of Bekkai

by Lenore



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Aphrodisiacs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-16
Updated: 2007-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a strange planet, Rodney gets initiated into the ways of the warrior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warriors Of Bekkai

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for [](http://technosage.livejournal.com/profile)[**technosage**](http://technosage.livejournal.com/)'s [Porn Paragraph-A-Thon](http://technosage.livejournal.com/224268.html), but…it's many and many paragraphs too long for comment porn. The prompt was Rodney/Ronon/John, mission report.

"I've been looking for you." Sheppard leans against Rodney's desk.

Rodney hunkers down over his computer. "Busy now." A lie, and they both know it, but Rodney holds out hope that Sheppard will go away anyway.

He doesn't. "The mission report. I wanted you to see it before I turn it into Colonel Carter."

Humiliation is a hot, twisting rope in the gut, and he glares up at Sheppard, betrayed.

"Just read it," Sheppard says softly.

There are exactly four sentences. _PCX-387 is inhabited by a warrior-like people called the Bekkai. They possess some Ancient technology, but no ZPM. Dr. McKay provided assistance in repairing some of their equipment, which earned the team a measure of good will. However, given the Bekkai's aggressive culture and the lack of trading opportunities or other strategic advantages to be gained, it is highly recommended that no further contact be pursued._

Not one inaccurate word in the entire thing, and yet it's such a lie.

The Bekkai had shown more than good will. They'd been exuberantly grateful for Rodney's help, throwing a banquet in his honor, with sweet wine and roast something that tasted a little like duck.

Their leader, Armahn, held out a jeweled chalice to Rodney. "The Bekkai receive you as a warrior. Drink and be as one of us."

The one awkward moment of the visit had come earlier in the day when Armahn had been going on at him about how he must be a most valued warrior among his people. Rodney, absorbed in his work, had thoughtlessly answered, "Oh, I'm not a warrior." Armahn's face had gone furiously pale, and Rodney backpedaled as best as he could, "Well, not officially at least." He'd never wished for Teyla more, to help smooth things over, but she'd stopped going on missions until her baby was born.

Armahn had seemed mollified by Rodney's own feeble efforts at diplomacy. Still, Rodney had been jumpy the rest of the day, on the lookout for trouble.

When Armahn pressed the chalice into his hands, it appeared that all really was forgiven. Rodney drank, and whatever was in the wine started to burn the moment it hit his stomach. Heat suddenly bloomed in his cheeks, prickled along his arms, pooled between his legs. He made a distressed noise. Sheppard and Ronon were instantly on their feet, guns in hand. The Bekkai aimed their weapons right back, and there were many, many more of them.

"The Bekkai honor McKay as a warrior, something you have failed to do," Armahn declared, with a look of distaste directed at Sheppard.

The burning inside Rodney's body grew hotter and strangely more familiar, and then in a rush that knocked the breath out of him, it turned savagely to arousal. His clothes bit into his skin, and he scrabbled at his pants, desperate for relief, not caring in the least that there was a roomful of people watching.

"What did you do to him?" Sheppard's voice was low and dangerous.

"It is the way of initiation. He has drunk from the cup of warrior's strength, and now he will know the Bekkai until he has achieved completion. Then he will be as one of us."

The Bekkai warriors eyed Rodney in an eagerly lewd fashion, and Rodney understood then, that Armahn meant "know" in the Biblical sense.

His head was starting to feel heavy, and everything seemed far away. He could hear the furious hiss of Sheppard's voice, but he had no idea what he was saying. Hopefully, something along the lines of: like hell that's going to happen.

At last, Armahn's voice rang out clearly, "You will initiate him. Or we will. McKay must leave here a warrior. He has earned the honor."

 _Honor_ , Rodney wanted to laugh. But his skin was on fire, and it took all his concentration pulling at zippers and Velcro, trying to free himself from the torture of cotton and leather and nylon.

A hand took him by the arm, and he didn't have to look to know it was Sheppard. He recognized the grip.

"Look, buddy, I don't think we can shoot our way out of here, and the only other alternative is—"

Rodney nodded. "I'd rather it was you and Ronon."

Sheppard's hand tensed on his arm, just for a second, and then he said in the same tone he always used when insisting they weren't going to die in some hopeless situation, "Everything's going to be okay. Just trust me."

They helped him out of his clothes. Ronon's big hands slid the pants down his legs. John pulled off his jacket and T-shirt. There was more rustling of fabric, and then Rodney felt the brush of a bare chest against his arm. He sucked in his breath, and his cock strained painfully.

"How do you want—"

Before Sheppard could finish, Rodney had already dropped down to his hands and knees. The heat just kept getting worse, and he spread his thighs and begged, "Please."

"It's all right, buddy. I'm right here." There was the warmth of a body against his hip, and then slickness on his cheek, and the pressure of a finger against his hole. The heat in his belly stirred at the sensation of being breached, and he made an insistent noise. He was so hard it was almost unbearable.

The fingers went away, and then there was a cock pushing inside him. His breath caught in his lungs, and his eyes watered. He shifted back, trying to get more. "Please, please."

Sheppard ran a hand soothingly along his back. "Let me take care of you, Rodney."

He held Rodney's hips to stop his wild lurching. Then he started to move, and when they'd found a rhythm, he reached around to stroke Rodney's cock.

"God," Rodney whimpered.

It felt so good, especially when he dropped his head, shifting positions slightly, so that Sheppard's cock slid against that place inside him, thrust after thrust, lighting him up with pleasure. The marble floor of the banquet room was hard beneath his knees, but he didn't care. All he could think about was how he was burning up inside and John's cock was the only relief for it.

Rodney couldn't tell how long they fucked. It felt paradoxically like forever and no time at all. Eventually, he could feel the tremor start in John's legs, tension in John's fingers where he gripped Rodney's hips. John pressed forward, his chest hot and slick with sweat, pressed tightly against Rodney's back. He kissed Rodney's neck, made a strangled noise, and came.

Sheppard pulled out gently. Rodney panted breathlessly, and he was still just as hard. When he raised his head, he saw the Bekkai warriors watching intently. A few were even starting to undo their belts.

"No," he moaned desperately.

An arm hooked around his waist. "I've got you, McKay." Ronon hauled him backwards onto his lap. Rodney could feel his erection nudge between his cheeks. "You ready?"

Rodney nodded, and Ronon guided him down onto his cock.

"Fuck!" Rodney shouted out emphatically.

God. Ronon was _huge_.

"Take it easy." Ronon's breath was warm against his cheek. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Rodney closed his eyes and let Ronon pull him by the hips into his thrusts. The inferno in his blood took over quickly enough, and it felt so good, no, better than that, _amazing_. He gripped Ronon's arm, his knuckles turning white, and he begged, "Fuck me harder. Please!"

Ronon gave him what he asked for, his thumb rubbing at Rodney's nipples, making him whimper.

John settled onto his knees in front of Rodney and stroked a hand along Rodney's thigh. "Let me see what I can do about that." He traced a finger along the vein of Rodney's cock, and then he bent his head.

"Ohmygodohmygod!" Rodney clutched at John's shoulders, threaded his fingers through John's hair, trying not to be too rough.

Sheppard did something inventive and spectacular with his tongue, and Rodney was hit with the sudden certainty that this was not the first time he'd given head. Some of Rodney's favorite fantasies were coming to life right here. Sheppard's head in his lap, and Ronon's strong arms around him, and he wanted to come, oh God, so much. Just the _thought_ of them doing this should have been enough to make him shoot, but the drug burning in his blood just wouldn't let him.

Ronon roared out at last and came inside him. Rodney's cock still showed no signs of giving it up, despite the hot, sweet heaven of Sheppard's mouth.

More of the Bekkai warriors were taking off their clothes.

"Not so fast!" Sheppard barked at them.

He'd gotten it up again while sucking Rodney, and Rodney would have complimented him on his refractory period if he'd had the strength to form sentences.

John fucked him again, and then Ronon, and it still wasn't enough.

Rodney was exhausted by now, and Ronon propped him up, fisting his cock. "Come on, McKay. Come on."

The Bekkai had started lining up, their hard ons dark and glistening, just waiting to get their chance at him.

Rodney begged John desperately, "No, please, don't let them."

"Nobody else is going to touch you." He grabbed the bowl of oil, dipped his fingers, and reached back behind himself. Rodney stared, the air sizzling in his lungs.

John lay down and pulled his knees to his chest. "Come on, do me."

Ronon helped maneuver Rodney over to him.

Rodney braced himself above John and whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." John's expression was startlingly open. "Fuck me, Rodney."

Rodney's hand trembled as he guided his cock to John's entrance. "Oh, God."

John was hot and so incredibly tight inside. The muscles in Rodney's thighs shook from the effort of restraining himself, from just pushing in wildly and fucking and fucking and fucking.

"You're so—" Rodney trailed off, no words.

John stroked his arm. "Come on, Rodney. Make us both feel good."

"Yes." Rodney nodded. "Yes, that's what I—"

He was startled by a touch on his back. "Shift up a little," Ronon said, guiding him.

Then he felt Ronon's hands spreading his cheeks apart, breath against his skin, and then a tongue against his hole.

"Oh, shit!" Rodney's voice broke.

It was so good he could hardly breathe, John's body and Ronon's mouth. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, John started to jerk himself off and Ronon began to stroke that sensitive place right behind Rodney's balls.

"Come in me," John said softly. "I want you to."

Rodney groaned loudly, and at last his climax started to build. He grappled for one of John's hands and held on and thrust desperately, and then, God, finally. There was wetness on his face when he'd finished coming, not tears, just manly relief.

Some of the Bekkai looked rather disappointed that they weren't going to get to fuck him, but everyone put their clothes back on. Rodney's entire body felt chafed, and the way his underwear clung to him was far from comfortable. Still, he'd never been so glad to wear pants in his life.

Now that the initiation was over, Armahn was all smiles. "You have received Dr. McKay as a warrior. You have performed your duty well."

There were calls for wine and backslaps of congratulations. Rodney noticed that Sheppard and Ronon were careful to keep him between them at all times, shielding him from the Bekkai's exuberance. Finally, they were able to say their goodbyes and get the hell out of there. John kept a hand on Rodney's arm as they double-timed it all the way back to the gate.

Just before they stepped into the event horizon, Rodney turned to John. "I don't want anyone to know about this."

He nodded grimly. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry."

  
Rodney hands the mission report back to John. "I, uh—thanks." His face feels too warm.

John rests a hand on his shoulder, tentatively at first, and then more certainly when Rodney doesn't flinch. "You going to come have dinner with us? We missed you at lunch."

John doesn't say "and breakfast and every meal yesterday and the day before and the day before that," but Rodney knows what he means. _We're friends. We're team. Nothing gets in the way of that._

Rodney logs off his computer. "I could eat."

John smiles, the lopsided, genuine one that makes Rodney's chest clench a little every time he sees it. They start down the hall, and John casually rests a hand at the small of Rodney's back. Rodney wants to say so many things, _Thank you, and I'm sorry, and what happens next?_

John's fingers curl in, holding on to him, and Rodney breathes out in relief, because whatever the answer to that last question, he feels suddenly certain that it's going to be okay.


End file.
